Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-04-07

hurrah ? Gadford forever !
Blaketon was small village nest
ling among the hills in the southern
part of Ohio.
Among the many institutions Of this
village, which gave it name and fame
throughout the country, was n long,
low, rambling structure, tlack with the
smoke of fi:ty years Here the fires in
two forges were constantly abla2e, and
the merry music of hammer and anvil
could be heard at all seasons of the
year, regardless alike of wind and
weather
The presiding spirit of this establish
ment was an eccentric, middle-aged
man, with tongue ever wagging over
the small gossip Of the neighborhood,
which he benevolently dispensed to the
group or i1lers who seldom failed to
give him more or less of an audience.
This fact being recognized. some un
known party had dubbed the shop
'Gadford's Harbor. IA name it had held
and honored for many years.
1t was cold frosty morning In No
vember. Mr. Gadford had begun work.
For wonder, he was alone. A cir
cunstance so unusual apparently had
its effect, for he dropped his hammer
aud went to the door.
j wonder what's the matter with
Jerry this morning y he muttered, as
he filled his pipe and squinted up and
down the long street. First day he's
been off time since he started in.
Some thin's up or down with him, sar-
tin | never seen boy so bent on git
tin' at IA trade in my life but he's try
in to move with ii leetle fast for a
beginner. Some says conceity folks is
the kind what wins. wonder if they
do -? never thought nothin' of N.Y.
self-nothln' at all and look at me
now don't think there's horse in
the state | can't shoe to the notch, nor
any work in iron ain't up TO. Solid
worth is what takes the lead, but stuck
upitiveness, never l guess I'll have
TO drop this prentice of mine peg or
two. All hope is they won't be no,
broken Lones y and he turned to his
forge with chuckle.
Considerably out of breath, Jerry
Altman bounded into the shop, tossed
off his coat, and was into his leathern
apron in jiffy.
Couldn't help it, Mr.. Gadford.
! Mothers sick. My aunt is there now,
sir. and guess I'll be on time after
this, as he took shovelful of Goals
from his masters forge t. light his
own.
No excuse needed in a case like
this,' replied the blacksmith. slowly.
No fault to lind with you on that
score, jerry
Amy fault to find anywhere, sir p
queried his apprentice, the roar from
the bellows almost drowning his voice.
Not gene'lly, not 'tickerly, boy ;
5u. still might say, in fatherly kind
of way, that you're gittiu' just lit
tie TO smart fer cuh y
Too smart for a cub'-what,do YOU
mean sir p cried our hero with a
flushed face.
What do L mean p replied his
master, with a loud laugh-'why, jist
what I've said, of course. What have
l been doing these thirty years. Tend
in' to my trade, haven't / -? When l
worked as prentice acted like one.
You don't, you see. Who ever heerd
of feler in your place studyin' gram
mer, and borrowin' books to read after
night !? When you GO home, do like |
dld-keep your mind on your bis'ness
DON'T think of nothin' but that. |
don't want no scholar here fer a cub,
nor no one that stands off from the
crowd and won't be drawed into no
talk unless its related of to some eddi-
Gated thi z or mother. You're soarin'
too much, young man. don't like it.
Nobody else does. Now git to work
and Guit it =
Jerry stood for one moment irreso-
Lutte. His face was hot with passion,
and a savage Tej0iuer was on his
tongue but he thought of his mother
In spite Of his narrowness, his master
was kind, and an excellent workman
So he turned on his heel and whistled.
Mr.. Gadford glared at him savagely
out Of the corner Of his eye, and had it
! On his lips to order the music stopped,
but thought better of it. and pounded
his thumb with the hammer Instead.
Blaketon could boast of but one dry.
goods store, but that was an unusually
large and extensive one for so small a
place. Mr.. Silas Upton, the proprietor,
had done thriving business that pleas
ant April day and he watched the sun
declining behind the hills with no par
ticular regret. But trade was not done
yet. apparently, for no less person
than our friend Jerry Altman entered
| and advanced toward the connter